


Where There is Love

by Bookkbaby



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asexual Castiel, Asexuality Spectrum, Blow Jobs, Demon Dean, Explicit Sexual Content, Feels, First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Priest Castiel, Virgin Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 19:36:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3146102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookkbaby/pseuds/Bookkbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where there is love, there is God's grace.</p><p>But is love enough to save Father Castiel's soul when the one he loves is a demon?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where There is Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for my dear friend Jen, in thanks for her generally being awesome and sending me cookies and truffles and all manner of wonderful things~

It was just supposed to be a game.

That's how it had started. A dare, a challenge, a fucking  _game_  to tempt the untemptable priest. The priest who was celibate by nature as well as by vow, who spent his time tending the garden and the bees, who donated the honey he collected to the homeless and who kept the church door open to any who might need to find God.

The priest with the criminally blue eyes and plush lips. The priest with the runner's physique that would put anyone's to shame.

The priest with the name of an angel, and wasn't that fucking rich? A demon trying to tempt an angel; surely Dean had been doomed to fail from the start.

 _Castiel_.

Dean had spent a year in Pontiac. He'd posed as a drifter just passing through, certain that with his skills he'd need no time at all to tempt the priest to sin. The week he'd initially estimated had turned into a month, then two, then before Dean had known it he was helping around the church and had lost sight entirely of his purpose in being there.

When was the last time he'd seriously made an attempt on Cas's soul?

When had the priest stopped being his target and become-

No.

 _No_.

"What did you say?" Dean asked hoarsely. His mouth felt dry, eyes wide. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, fear and victory and bile rising in his throat.

"I'm in love with you," Cas said, not looking at Dean. The priest's head was bowed, his hand resting lightly on the Bible he kept on top of his nightstand. "I thought you should know. If you truly intend to leave-"

"You can't," Dean burst out. Cas looked up, startled and confused. Dean shook his head and backed up a step, closer to the door of Castiel's bedroom.

Dean had meant to go. He'd meant to tell Cas goodbye and never darken the doorway of this little church again, meant to cover it with all manner of anti-demonic wards and protective sigils so that even with him gone, nothing would happen to Cas or his flock.

He'd meant to keep Cas  _safe_ , keep his soul pure and destined for Heaven.

"Dean-"

"You  _can't_ ," Dean all but snarled, suddenly furious. Cas couldn't love him, Cas didn't know the first thing about him. Fate was a cruel bitch, dangling this carrot in front of him when it would damn Cas's soul if Dean took it.

It was almost funny, how the one thing Dean had set out to do a year ago now terrified and infuriated him beyond measure.

Dean didn't think. All he knew was that Cas couldn't love him and he  _had_  to make sure Cas saw that. It was the only way to protect him.

In two strides, Dean crossed the room and seized the front of Cas's robes. Cas didn't protest, too surprised to move, as Dean shoved him up against the wall and leaned in.

"You  _can't_  love me," Dean growled, trying not to shake, not to lean in and close the last of the distance between them. Cas's eyes were wide and so, so blue, lips parted slightly, inviting and innocent. "You don't even know what I  _am, **Father**_."

He spat the last word out. Cas's eyes darkened.

"I know you well enough," Cas said, voice clipped. "I've watched you this past year, Dean. You are a good man, even if you don't have faith. I-"

"No," Dean said. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He let his true nature surface, eyes going black as pitch and rams' horns growing from his forehead. His tail and claws regrew in the blink of an eye, canines sharpening to razors. "I'm really  _not_."

Castiel drew in a sharp breath. Dean opened his eyes, ink dark boring into sky blue. Cas was still, and in his eyes was something Dean had never seen, something he'd never wanted to see.

Fear.

It tore Dean's heart in two, but  _good_. This was what he wanted, this was what had to be done.

"What are you?" Cas asked, though the weight of knowledge was heavy on his face. Dean forced himself to smirk.

"A demon, real and in the flesh, sent to tempt the faithful and make them stray from God," Dean said. He chuckled, dark and low. "Put  _this_  in your sermon tomorrow, Father. The damned do roam the Earth and  _do_  seek the destruction of man."

Cas's expression shuttered, lips pressed into a thin line. Dean braced himself, waiting for Cas's anger, waiting for Cas to banish him.

"No," Cas said. Dean stared at him.

"What?"

"I don't believe you," Cas said. Dean was abruptly struck by the urge to laugh, loud and incredulous, and simultaneously struck by a wave of anger.

"You don't  _believe_  me?" Dean said. He seized one of Cas's hands and pulled, placing the priest's palm on his horn. "Does that feel  _real_  enough for-"

Dean's voice choked, words dying in his throat, as Cas's hand gently smoothed over the horn. There was no fear in Cas's eyes now, just fascination.

"You may be a demon, but that doesn't mean you're not a good man," Cas said, gaze moving from Dean's horns back to his eyes. The darkness he found there didn't seem to bother him, for he continued. "I've watched you this past year, Dean. I've seen how you are with the children and with the other parishioners. There is no evil here."

Dean felt a hand come to rest over his heart. Dean felt the weight of it crush his lungs and drive all the air from his chest.

"You can't," Dean said again, voice low. His fear was overtaking his anger. Damnit, he was trying to  _protect_  Cas, why couldn't he  _see_?

"I do," Cas replied. His voice was solid and strong with conviction, so certain he had Dean's measure. Dean shook his head and tore himself away from the priest.

"You don't  _understand_ ," he snapped, trying his best to funnel his fear into rage. "I've damned hundreds and I  _liked it_. I've tempted priests and nuns for shits and giggles, just because I could. The only reason I came here was because I wanted to damn  _you_. I wanted to corrupt you and drag your soul to Hell. I wanted you to  _burn_."

Cas watched him, head tilted in a way Dean had long since stopped trying not to think of as endearing.

"Then why protect me?" Cas asked. "Why not take my confession of love and use it to damn me?"

"Because!" Dean snarled, then stopped. He could not answer. He  _had_  no answer, except that the thought of Cas on a rack in the Pit caused something terrible to churn in his stomach. It caused every protective instinct he still had to raise its hackles and growl. It made him want to wrap Cas in his arms and keep him safe.

And he  _couldn't_ , because he was a demon and  _demons did not protect_.

"I can't," Dean heard himself say. He shook his head. No, that wasn't what he meant. "I mean, you can't. You don't."

"I do," Cas said. He stepped forward, reaching out for Dean. Dean couldn't move. Cas breathed in deep and cupped Dean's face with both hands. "I love you, Dean."

Dean couldn't breathe. He just stared, wide-eyed and wanting and terrified.

"I don't believe you are damned," Cas whispered, and leaned in.

Cas's lips were so  _soft_.

It was everything Dean had imagined it would be, yet at the same time so much more than he ever thought it could. Cas's kiss was tentative, unskilled and unsure, and all Dean had wanted for the past several months.

With a small, broken sound, Dean gave himself over to the kiss. His hands came to rest at Cas's lower back, holding the priest close. His body moved on instinct, on memory, and his head tilted and his lips parted to allow his tongue to move against the seam of Cas's mouth.

When Cas's mouth opened beneath him, it was the sweetest thing Dean had ever tasted. Sweeter even than the honey from Cas's hives.

Dean drank him in like Cas's mouth was made of ambrosia. He tried desperately to ignore the way Cas was arching into him, pressing their bodies closer, closer. This wasn't arousal or sexual desire, just a pure, sensual need for touch. To make this real.

Dean could understand that.

Cas pulled back with a gasp, lips reddened and slick. Dean wanted to lean back in and claim his mouth again, but restrained himself.

"What do you want, Cas?" Dean asked, voice hoarse with desire. Cas's eyes flicked to Dean's lips and then back up. Dean's mouth went dry.

"I want..." Cas licked his lips. "I want you any way I can have you. Whatever that means."

Dean groaned and closed his eyes. From anyone else, that sentence would have had an entirely different meaning. From Cas, though, Dean could feel all the unsaid desires hiding behind the words.

Cas  _wanted_  him. Cas wanted him in the church, to wake up to in the mornings, to cook breakfast, to talk with, low and intimate, after the congregation had dispersed. Cas wanted him as a friend, a lover, a confidant, a hand to hold, and a shoulder to lean on. Cas wanted to be all those things for Dean in turn. Cas wanted his heart, his mind, his body, and whatever soul he had left to give.

Maybe Cas even wanted sex, though if that numbered among Cas's wants, Dean had a feeling it was so far down on the list it hardly mattered.

"You want me," Dean echoed. Cas nodded. "I'm a demon. I've done shit- you don't even  _know_."

And there's the rub. Dean had tortured, he'd killed, he'd corrupted. He'd lied and manipulated and stolen. Cas knew none of this. All he knew was the drifter Dean had pretended to be, the face he'd put on hoping to trick the priest into damnation.

 _Fuck_ , Dean didn't even deserve to  _look_  at him.

"Then confess," Cas said. His voice was strong, firm,  _compassionate_. "I'll forgive you. If that's what you need, Dean, I'll-"

Dean shook his head and then buried his face in Cas's neck. He couldn't take this, couldn't listen to Cas spewing love and kindness when Dean knew damn well he merited none of it.

"You don't get it. I'm a  _demon_ , Cas. I'm not 'redeemable', I don't deserve-"

"You do," Cas growled. He wrenched Dean away from his neck and cupped his face again, forcing Dean to look him in the eyes and see the weight of absolute certainty resting there. "Don't you ever say you don't deserve this, Dean. Don't say you're not redeemable. You are."

Dean kissed him. He kissed him like he could find his redemption in Cas's mouth, like he could drink salvation from Cas's lips.

Cas responded in kind. His hands laid fluttering touches all over Dean; his face, his shoulders, down his back, up his sides. It was as if Cas didn't know quite where he wanted to put his hands.

Dean wanted him. He wanted Cas so badly he could hardly stand it, to be this close and still not close enough.

"I'm a demon," Dean groaned. "You'd break your vows with a demon?"

He wasn't sure whether he wanted to beg Cas to stop for the sake of Cas's soul, or if he wanted to beg Cas to continue. He wasn't sure if he hoped that the reminder of Cas's vows of chastity would bring this to an end. He wasn't sure what he was trying to accomplish by reminding Cas of what he was; surely there was no way Cas could forget what it was he was kissing?

He just needed Cas. He needed him to choose, needed him naked and pliant, needed him chaste and safe.

Cas's hand had returned to cup Dean's face. Dean found himself leaning into the touch, spellbound by Cas's eyes.

"With you," Cas said. "I'd break my vows with you, if you wished it."

Dean couldn't speak. How to say just how  _much_  he desired this? It was beyond words, a wanting that was beyond anything Dean had ever known.

He'd had his fair share of lovers. He'd had an even greater number of conquests. All that desire paled in comparison to this bone-deep  _ache_  for the man before him.

Dean had fantasized about Cas for a year now. Back when he'd first arrived, all his fantasies had been about getting the priest naked and corrupted by pleasure. He'd wanted to do the filthiest, dirtiest things to that pure, unsullied body, simply for the joy of it. His fantasies had changed, shifted, and before long his dreams had centered around bringing Cas to the heights of bliss, to see the sunset cast light and shadow on tanned skin, and to wake to Cas's sleepy smile in the morning.

Now, he was terrified of the corruption his touch might bring.

"Cas," Dean said. His voice felt thick on his tongue. "I won't damn you."

"My God would not punish me for this," Cas said with certainty. Dean latched onto that certainty, hoping against hope that Cas was right, that if they did this tonight there would be no harm.

"How do you know?" Dean asked. Cas smiled.

"'Where there is love, there is His grace'," Cas quoted softly, from what book Dean didn't know. It was enough. Dean wanted this so badly. If Cas wanted it too, who was Dean to deny him?

If anything happened to Cas's soul, if he was indeed damned for laying with a demon... Dean would protect him. He'd sequester Cas in his own personal Hell and ensure that nothing touched him. He'd create a Heaven for them in the bowels of the Pit.

For Cas, anything.

Dean kissed Cas again, open-mouthed and deep, welcomed so sweetly by Cas. Hardly believing his own daring, that he was  _really doing this_ , Dean began slowly walking Cas backwards towards the priest's bed.

"I want you," Dean said. He couldn't say those other three words, not just yet, but he hoped Cas heard them all the same. He kept his touch gentle and reverent, trying to show the only way he knew how what he couldn't say.

Cas's smile was beatific.

"I love you," Cas said. The back of Cas's knees hit the mattress and he sank down, pulling Dean with him. Dean let out a low 'oof' as he caught himself. Cas chuckled breathlessly, nervous and elated, as they adjusted themselves. Once Cas was on his back with his head on his pillow and Dean above him, hips to hips and arms bracketing Cas's head, they kissed again.

"Are you sure about this, Cas?" Dean asked. He could feel the priest's hands snake beneath his shirt, curiously seeking skin. Dean groaned as a hot palm smoothed over the muscles of his back. "If you change your mind-"

"Then I will tell you," Cas promised. His eyes were light with wonder, staring up at Dean like he was a miracle. That look was pure adoration. Dean shivered and claimed Cas's lips again.

Fuck, but this was going to be over quickly no matter what he did.

"I don't have time to do everything I want to do to you tonight," Dean said, voice low and husky. He dipped his head and mouthed at Cas's neck, nipping lightly with his teeth above the collar of Cas's robe. Cas made a small noise and tilted his head, offering more of his neck to Dean's lips. Dean groaned. "What do you want from me right now?"

He could use his mouth. His fingers. As much as he wanted to be inside Cas, he knew realistically that that wasn't happening tonight. He was too wound up, too anxious, too eager; it would be over before he got so much as a finger inside the man beneath him. The very idea of sliding inside the heat of Cas's body, of feeling him clench and hearing him gasp, of seeing the look on his face as he came from nothing more than Dean moving inside him... it was almost enough to make Dean come right then and there.

"I just want to be close to you," Cas said. Dean kissed him again, soft and slow.

"I can do that," he said. He pulled back, rising to his knees so he could pull off the flannel and the T-shirt he'd worn today. For a moment, his shirt got caught on one of his horns. He held the T-shirt for a moment before dropping it off the side of the bed. He touched the offending horn and looked down at Cas, the picture of sullied perfection with his hair mussed and lips red and damp. His priest's collar seemed bright white in the light of the bedside lamp.

"Do you want me to," Dean started. He swallowed, still touching his horn. "I can put these away, I can-"

"Don't," Cas said, pushing himself up so he could grab Dean's wrist. "I would be with you. All of you, you don't need to hide on my account."

Dean breathed. He cupped Cas's face, reveling in the easy way Cas leaned into the touch, clawed though the hand that gave it was.

"How do I deserve you," Dean said, sliding his hand down to the buttons of Cas's robe. Cas let him, slowly laying back down until he no longer had to use an arm to support himself and instead could devote both hands to committing the planes of Dean's body to memory.

"You do," Cas reassured him softly. "Good things do happen, Dean."

Dean smiled and began working on the buttons of Castiel's robe. They came open one by one under Dean's nimble fingers, and each loose button seemed to send the anticipation in the room higher.

"Maybe you're right," Dean said, peeling the sides of the robe apart to get to the clothes Cas wore beneath. "Maybe this is one of those good things."

"It is," Cas agreed, breathing going ragged as Dean started popping the buttons on his shirt, baring his skin inch by inch.

"I just can't believe it's happening to me," Dean said lowly, leaning in. He started at Cas's neck, mouthing and nipping at the smooth skin. Cas moaned quietly, then inhaled sharply as though surprised he could make such a sound.

"I can't either," Cas said. "I never... never wanted-  _Dean_."

Dean sucked at a nipple, teasing it with his tongue to a hard peak. Cas was so  _sensitive_  here, so gloriously responsive. Dean pulled back enough to blow gently on the wet skin just to hear Cas's breath hitch and see him tremble.

"'Never wanted', Cas?" Dean asked, pressing his open mouth to the skin above Cas's rapidly beating heart. Dean could taste Cas's heartbeat on his tongue and he took a moment to worship it, offering it kisses and silent devotion if that heart would just continue to beat for another thousand years of this.

Dean almost wanted to laugh. He hadn't even lain with Cas  _once_  yet and already he knew he wanted this again and again and  _again_. Lifetimes of this.  _Centuries_  of this.

"I never wanted anyone this way," Cas said, voice hoarse and eyes wide. "Sex was always something other people did, I never... but with you, somehow, I'm curious. And I want to be close to you, Dean, so close I don't know where I end and you begin."

Dean felt the urge to kiss Cas like a physical need. He surged forward and captured Cas's lips again, growling low in his throat when Cas's hands came up. One fisted in Dean's hair at the nape of his neck, the other grabbed at a curved horn and used it to tilt Dean's head, perfecting the angle of their mouths.

"Next time," Dean promised as the kiss broke. "Next time, I swear, but there's no way I'm gonna last." Feeling bold, Dean reached down and palmed the swelling hardness between Cas's legs. Cas gave a broken cry and arched into the touch, hands clenching. Dean felt a thrill rush through him and he bent down to mouth again at Cas's neck. "I don't think you can wait, either."

" _Dean_ ," Cas gasped out by way of answer, his hips rocking instinctively into the motions of Dean's hand. This was about to come to an end far too fast for Dean's taste. Even if they couldn't do everything Dean so badly wanted to tonight, he didn't want the night to end here.

He pulled his hand away, relishing the strangled noise of protest that escaped Cas's throat. Dean lifted himself up and stared down at the priest, taking in his flushed skin and heaving chest, his swollen, red lips, his sweat-damp hair.

"So fucking gorgeous," Dean said. He placed a brief, chaste kiss on Cas's lips. "So beautiful like this, Cas."

"I could say the same to you," Cas said. He was still staring at Dean as though he was some miracle, something beautiful and good sent by God to bless him.

Dean drank it in. He kissed Cas again and then began moving slowly downwards, peppering every inch of him with soft, reverent kisses. Cas's hands were moving again; over his shoulders, the nape of his neck, his horns. Cas didn't shy away from touching them, gasped just as beautifully when Dean ran his claws lightly over Cas's skin as when Dean dragged the pads of his fingers over Cas's flesh.

Dean stopped his trail of kisses just below Cas's navel. Cas's breathing was rough and uneven, his eyes fixed on Dean as Dean delicately unbuckled Cas's belt. Dean popped open the button on Cas's slacks and slowly brought the zipper down.

"Dean," Cas breathed. Dean dipped forward and kissed just above the waistband of Cas's boxers. He dragged his mouth down, onto the cloth covering Cas's arousal, and Cas gasped and bucked, overwhelmed. Dean chuckled lowly, mouthing wetly at the head of Cas's erection through the thin cotton cloth. There was a damp patch growing under his tongue, saliva and precome both.

Cas was close. Dean didn't want to keep him waiting.

Much.

Dean looked up to find Cas staring at him, propped up on his elbows so he could see. Dean gently tugged the band of Cas's underwear down, moving it just enough to free his erection. Cas shivered as the cool air hit his heated skin.

Next time, Dean vowed to himself, they'd do this properly. There'd be candles and silk sheets and slowly undressing one another, none of this 'clothes half-off' bullshit. He'd get to see all of Cas lain gloriously bare beneath him, but for now this would do. Cas was painfully hard, the head of his erection already weeping. No need to prolong this.

Dean wrapped his hand around Cas gently. Cas's hands fisted tightly in the bedsheets and he gave a choked cry of Dean's name. Dean stroked him slowly, using Cas's precome to slick his palm.

Cas was shaking, all hitching breaths and moving hips, low moans and choked cries. Dean husked a chuckle and bent his head over Cas's erection.

" _Dean_ ," Cas breathed, hips snapping up as Dean's lips closed around the head of him. Dean took it in stride and slowly sank down over Cas's arousal, encasing him in the warm wetness of his mouth.

Dean started up a rhythm, bobbing and stroking and sucking. He tongued patterns on the head of Castiel's dick on every upstroke. His hands grew bolder, the hand not stroking Cas working its way into the mess of Cas's pants and caressing every intimate inch of him in a promise of what would come.

Cas moaned loudly, helpless to stop the noises spilling from his throat. He thrust up into Dean's mouth, down against his probing fingers, hands white-knuckled in the sheets. Dean's name fell from his lips again and again like a prayer.

One more bob of Dean's head, just as his fingers brushed the furled entrance to Cas's body, and Cas was coming.

"Dean," Cas cried sharply; warning or exaltation, Dean didn't know. He kept up the movements of his head and hands, pleasuring Cas through his orgasm as the priest shuddered and came apart beneath him. Dean swallowed him down, all he had to give, and sucked gently at the spent flesh.

Dean let Cas slide from his mouth and crawled back up Cas's body. Cas was breathing heavily, eyes still glassy with bliss. Dean kissed him, slow and deep, letting Cas taste himself on Dean's tongue. Cas melted easily into Dean, so trusting, still so innocent.

Dean groaned. He raised himself up to his knees, straddling Cas, and reached down to hurriedly open up his jeans. He braced himself with one arm, face buried in Cas's neck, and efficiently freed himself.

This was going to last an embarrassingly short amount of time. Without Cas's pleasure to distract him, his own erection was painful and insistent. A quick, desperate jerk and Dean would be able to lie down beside Cas and just bask.

He wrapped a hand around himself. Cas shifted, and suddenly there was a hand on Dean's wrist, tugging him gently away.

"Let me?" Cas asked, breathless. Dean swallowed and nodded, bringing his hand back up to brace on the other side of Cas's head.

Cas's hand slid around Dean, gripping the hard flesh at an awkward angle. Dean didn't care. He groaned loudly and thrust down, moaning uncontrollably at the friction of Cas's hand.

Cas's touch was tentative and unsure to begin, but firmed as Cas grew in confidence. Dean couldn't help the way his hips rocked into the caress, needy moans and whispers of encouragement pouring from his mouth.

" _Yes_ , fuck, just like that, Cas, so fucking good, so  _fucking_  good..." Dean punctuated his words and half-sentences with kisses. He moved up Cas's neck, over his jawline and cheek, until he could kiss Cas's mouth while he fucked into Cas's fist.

In just a few short minutes, Dean felt his orgasm wash over him. He shuddered above Cas's body and gave a long, low moan of Cas's name.  As Dean had done for him, Cas kept working him through his peak, stroking gently until Dean was completely spent.

Dean all but collapsed on top of Cas and the mess he'd made on Cas's chest. Dean couldn't bring himself to care. He gave Cas another long, slow kiss and smiled. Cas couldn't see it, but he could feel it against his lips.

Reluctantly, knowing they had to clean up before everything started congealing, Dean rolled off of Cas and lay next to him on the bed. Baby steps. He didn't want to leave the priest's bed just yet in search of a rag. Cas rolled onto his side, facing Dean.

"That was..." Cas voice trailed off. Dean nodded, smiling.

"Yeah," he agreed. It had been fantastic. Magnificent. There had been something sacred in the press of their bodies, something holy in Cas's touch. Dean was almost amazed he hadn't been burned by it.

As for Cas's soul... Dean's fears had been unfounded. He stared at the priest, hardly daring to believe it, but Cas's soul was still untainted. Pure.

All this, and Cas was still not damned.

"Well, I'll be damned again," Dean said, relief and happiness welling up inside him. Cas frowned and tilted his head.

"Dean?"

"'Where there is love, there is His grace'," Dean quoted softly back at Cas. He laid a hand on Cas's face and brushed a thumb over his lips. "I didn't ruin you."

Cas leaned into the touch and placed his own hand over Dean's. He squeezed it and smiled.

"I told you," Cas said, leaning in. "My God would not punish me for this."

They kissed again, long and deep and sweet.

And if a bit of the demonic taint darkening Dean's soul dissipated back into pure light, neither man was any the wiser.

Yet.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Like this? Want more?
> 
> Feel free to drop by my Tumblr and say hello!
> 
> bookkbaby.tumblr.com


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